


Advanced Culinary Training

by thegracious



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, MasterChef (US) RPF
Genre: Barnes has eaten a seal before, Barnes is sassy, Cooking, Fluff, Grilled Cheese is his specialty, Humor, Infinite Coffee Verse, M/M, MasterChef AU, The Olds, and a bear, but is now on TV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-07-10 20:52:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7006135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegracious/pseuds/thegracious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barnes discovers MasterChef. MasterChef discovers Barnes. </p><p>OR </p><p>Barnes trades in villainy for reality TV. He's not entirely sure if it's better. </p><p>OR </p><p>How Barnes whooped HYDRA's ass with a grilled cheese sandwich.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chicken and Pilaf

**Author's Note:**

  * For [owlet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlet/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Long Road Begins at Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5339822) by [owlet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlet/pseuds/owlet). 



> I am two papers behind for for school and here I am, posting yet ANOTHER fic to add to my WIPs. 
> 
> HUGE thank you to [ owlet](http://archiveofourown.org/users/owlet) bringing [ this series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/195689) to my life. This fic is set in a nebulous time in owlet's universe, where everything is happy(ish) and nothing hurts (that much).

Subject: Cooking Instruction

Flying Sam –

Received new intelligence re: cooking. Training available with top-tier chef Gordon Ramsay. This presents important opportunity to acquire decent professional instruction in cooking. Other trainers include: Graham Elliot, trainer in French cuisine, and Joe Bastianich, very skilled in Italian cuisine and wine.

Further study of French cuisine required.

However: program is to be televised. Possibility of recognition. High-pressure competitive environment with possibly nosy civilians, while allowed access to many knives. Unsure if ready for high-stress environments surrounded by strangers.

Counterpoint: Program is specifically for high-profile individuals. Producers are likely to have taken this into account when setting up security. Presence of other high-profile competitors will help lessen attention to me.

Please advise. 

Barnes

 

Subject: Re: Cooking Instruction

Barnes,

Are you talking about MasterChef? Man, you are going to slay– Barton literally cannot shut up about that pound cake. You’re definitely skilled enough to make it there, and if you need advice about cooking and stuff before going on the show, why don’t you ask Esther or Mr. Hayashi from the Carp?

If you’re worried about recognition from HYDRA, we can get around that. I’m sure JARVIS or Maria could do a background check on the MasterChef team (seriously, if Gordon Ramsay is HYDRA there is literally no escaping them).

About the other thing – you’re getting better at keeping your cool, but I’d bring Steve or Romanoff with you to filming. Not to keep an eye on you or anything, just to make sure you have a buddy out there in California to hang with in between sets, yeah? If you can give me the dates and if you want me there, I can clear some of my schedule to come with, because I am NOT missing out on the Barnes and Ramsay Show.

Sam

~

Esther is supportive, but Lidia is making her not-laughing face. “Jimmy, dear, you’ll be amazing on MasterChef! You received excellent instruction,” Esther winks, “and you’ve got a good nose for ingredients and flavor combinations. You can more than knock those know-it-all fancy chefs out of the building.”

“Competition will include only amateur cooks,” Barnes corrects.

“I was talking about the judges, honey,” Esther reassures Barnes.

Barnes frowns. Trainers will be unable to provide instruction outside of competition premises.

AVOID

~

Barnes texts Hill and Banner to come up to their floor for dinner, and when they arrive, Barnes is already plating the food. Banner brought white wine: excellent for chicken prepared. Hill brought a loaf of fancy Vienna bread and an argumentative attitude.

“Barnes, what’s with this request to do background checks on the MasterChef people? Is there a HYDRA connection we don’t know about yet? Or are you planning to –” Hill falls silent as she takes in the three plates Barnes has painstakingly prepared (chicken on beds of rice pilaf, honey-lemon glaze in an aesthetically pleasing streak beside it). “You _are_ thinking of going on MasterChef!”

Will everyone be this incredulous.

“Confirm,” Barnes replies. “But Building JARVIS suggested a full background check on all MasterChef personnel first to ensure security. And Flying Sam suggested legal documents to prevent film tapes from being released until after filming is complete and we have left MasterChef premises.”

“And we’re here to taste-test your audition recipe,” Banner surmised. Barnes nodded, and gestured to the dining table.

“There are also apple pie cookies for dessert. Unsure if chicken or cookies to be used for initial audition piece.”

Hill frowned. “I’d normally say go with the cookies because your baking is phenomenal, but I’m pretty sure you only have an hour for the auditions. Will that be enough for the cookies?”

POINT

Crap. The show sets time limits.

Hill notices his surprise, and pats him on the shoulder. “We’ll eat dinner and marathon MasterChef after, how does that sound?”

~

Banner assures Barnes that his chicken was cooked perfectly, but “Watch your flavor pairings. The chicken didn’t work so great with the pilaf. And scale down your serving portions; you’re still serving for super-soldier appetites. Gourmet restaurants plate a lot less than that.”

Hill cues up MasterChef reruns and they watch five episodes. It is as Barnes feared – high-stress, high-pressure, but there are so many important lessons. Barnes sets himself a task: familiarize self with the MasterChef format.

The next day he looks at the competition rules. There are many tests, which Barnes is confident he can simulate in his kitchen.

There is a prize for winning. The prize is $250,000 donation for a charity of his choosing.

Barnes sees it, has to take a few deep breaths, and texts Flying Sam: “Flying Sam. There is a cash prize for winning MasterChef. Can I donate it to your VA office.”

Flying Sam replies. “Of course you can, Barnes. The vets here would love to watch you win them a quarter of a million dollars.”

~

Barnes tells Rogers about MasterChef over dinner the night before the auditions.

“Steve,” he says as Rogers has his mouth full of shepherd’s pie, “there is an audition for MasterChef tomorrow. I would like to go.”

Steve nearly chokes, but has to take a few moments to consider his words as he swallows. As planned.

“Really, Bucky?” Steve asks after he drinks a glass of water. “You sure you want to go on national TV and cook? You know you hate getting caught on camera.”

“Only when mission parameters indicate a need for covert operations,” Barnes said. “Position with the Avengers now public knowledge after the incident with the robots. Possibility of instruction for beef wellington supersedes risk of exposure when exposure occurred several weeks ago.”

Steve grins. “Beef wellington, huh. You want to get that right so bad, you’re willing to go on camera for weeks just to get a lesson from Gordon Ramsay?”

Barnes scowls. It is unfair for Steve to bring up the wellington from last March.

INSTRUCTION FOR BEEF WELLINGTON REQUIRED.

Yeah, mission. That beef wellington was a disaster.

CRITICAL MATERIEL.

For what?

RESEARCH INDICATES NEED FOR NEW CHRISTMAS RECIPE

It’s not until months away, but Barnes agrees with the mission. You can never be too early with extra instruction. But first, he has to get into the competition.

~

Sometime around 2300 the static in Barnes’ head drives him out of bed and into the kitchen. The mission is panicking, screeching ‘REVIEW AUDITION MENU’ at him several times until he times himself and produces the chicken and pilaf in an hour. He also tries the apple pie cookies but sadly they need at least an hour and thirty minutes to prepare.

More worrying are the questions that the judges always ask in the auditions. Barnes sets out a journal and attempts to answer the following questions:

  * Where are you from?
  * Why do you love food?
  * Why do you cook?
  * Where did you learn to cook?



Seeing as he’s entering the ‘Celebrity’ edition of MasterChef, Barnes is confident the first question will no longer be an issue. Especially since The Daily Show did a short documentary on his life in the days immediately after the robots. Barnes is still struggling over the rest of the questions when Stark bursts into the room, manic and covered in engine oil.

“Why are you going on MasterChef?” He demands. “I could get you in any culinary school you wanted and you want to go on MasterChef?”

Barnes is not surprised; everyone in the tower is no longer surprised whenever Stark behaves outrageously. Neither does he feel the need to explain himself, but aw, look at that, Stark went all the way to his apartment just to ask. If he asks nicely Barnes might even explain.

“I mean, really? Gordon Ramsay? The biggest sell out to have ever sold out?”

Barnes glares and pulls the plate of apple pie cookies out of range of Stark’s grubby workshop hands.

~

The next day, the cameras go crazy when Steve walks in the audition hall. Please. Like that guy could pull off anything worthy of the MasterChef kitchen.

CONFIRM

At least Steve draws the cameras away from Barnes, who surveys the room with interest. The equipment is all highly polished stainless steel. Barnes gets excited at the sight of the knife racks. There are excellent knives in Building JARVIS, but these are knives that professionals use. Barnes is looking forward using them later.

Behind him Rogers is doing his ‘aw shucks’ routine at the cameras, laughing outright when someone asks him if he’s come to join MasterChef. Sure, pal, laughing is the correct response, because Rogers’ cooking is laughable. But his answer gets all cameras to swing in Barnes’ direction: “I’ve never been able to cook anything delicious in my life! Bucky’s the one auditioning; he can make a cookie so damn good HYDRA agents would defect to the good side just to have them.”

INCORRECT

What. I can make damn good cookies, mission.

MISSION ASSIST ESTHER’S COOKIES: ‘SO DAMN GOOD HYDRA AGENTS WOULD DEFECT’

Aw, the peanut butter cookies.

CRITICAL MATERIEL

It was a good tangent to be distracted by, until Barnes realizes all the microphones were pointing at his face and reporters were throwing all sorts of questions in his direction. Barnes blinks and glares them all to submission.

Still got it. Satisfied that all reporters have been sufficiently quelled by his glare, Barnes strides in to the audition hall very purposefully and gets in line to be registered.

~

The glazed chicken – better balanced now after he and Banner tinkered with the recipe – is enough to get him into the main auditions in Los Angeles. The producer who tastes the food is a little intimidated by him but her eyes roll back into her skull once the chicken is actually in her mouth.

“God, this is amazing,” she said. Barnes feels vindicated. Although the knives were great, really great, cooking with that many reporters watching behind him was not fun. He might not make this chicken  againvuntil he feels sufficiently cleansed of all the eyes watching his every move.

He almost tells himself that this might not be a good idea, but the mission interrupts.

STAY STRONG

Okay mission, if this is really that important.

The producers love the chicken, although the pilaf is a little too mushy. Could have let that cook with less broth, Barnes notes. He gets the mandate to go to Los Angeles, and Barnes and Rogers walk out the building a couple of hours later.

It’s not until they’re walking back to the Tower that Barnes realizes. They didn’t actually eat at the audition.

He and Steve go to the Carp before they go home. The old man laughs at Barnes when Steve tells him where they'd been.

~

Actually flying to Los Angeles is a little dicey – the producers call with questions about his travel itinerary and offer to subsidize his flight. The thought of flying commercial makes Barnes itch all over until finally he leaves the phone and Building JARVIS picks up the conversation with the people from MasterChef.

 It is a problem until Potts finds out at the next Hair Club meeting. She is brisk and business-like about Barnes’ travel arrangements even with a mango moisturizing mask on her face.

“I’m going to California in a few weeks, so you and Steve can come with me in the jet. I’m leaving a few days before your filming begins, but you can use the extra time to familiarize yourself with the city.”

It is a kindness. Barnes makes her gingerbread cupcakes with chocolate and bourbon in them and brings them to her office the next day, dropping of the box with her secretary.

Potts texts Barnes a few minutes later: “fdklawiononvkafidsa iklkl”

He squints at his phone, and then says. “Building. Please check if Pepper is experiencing anaphylactic shock from allergic reaction.”

Building JARVIS sounds almost amused. “Ms. Potts has no known allergies to any of the ingredients used for the cupcakes. She does, however, appear to have been rendered incoherent by the quality of your baking.”

Keep this going and the mission might stop being nervous about this whole thing.

~

The next two weeks are spent cooking challenges following the MasterChef format with the other residents of the Tower. Barton, once he finds out, manages to be around whenever Barnes is testing out recipes for lunch. He eats everything but offers little comment in return.

Barton is truly a wonder of a human being. He eats the kale-and-wheatgrass cupcakes Barnes made as an experiment after seeing another Pronoun, even after _the dog_ refused to eat it.

“Hey, waste not, want not; isn’t that the motto for you Depression boys?” He asks around a mouthful of gross cupcake. Watching Barton eat is gross but fascinating. Does the man have working taste buds at all.

Banner and Hill, at least, can be counted on to give him sound commentary. Potts also has a refined palate, but has no experience in the kitchen. Flying Sam, Romanoff, and Rogers have all had their taste buds utterly ruined by military rations.

“Why don’t you ask Tony for advice?” Potts asks him when he brings her a batch of lemongrass macarons. “He loves food, he’d be happy to help you with your MasterChef project.”

Barnes scowls. “Stark has no taste.”

Potts raises her eyebrow. “Really, now.”

“Well, he does have you,” Barnes allows, “but he lucked out.” 

~

In the end, he decides to do something mushy for the main audition. Research indicates that contestants with the sappiest stories have higher chances of entering the competition, and the Red Room taught Barnes to exploit every opportunity.

The mission prods the briefing into being cooperative, and the briefing obliges: it gives Barnes a memory download of foods consumed by the Bucky-person and little Steve. 

TERRIBLE

Yikes. Being poor in the Depression did not make for good culinary decisions. But the briefing also gives him the memory of a tiny Bucky-person baking something with a very old woman, and it turned out to be a very interesting flat bread.

 Barnes asks Rogers about it when Rogers gets back from the gym.

“Flat bread? I think that would you making some soda bread with your grandmother. She made the best soda bread, and every time you went back home for Sunday dinner you’d be carrying at least three loaves back with you.”

Barnes does some research: Irish soda bread is extremely easy to make and can be produced within an hour. There are many varieties with raisins and other dried fruit He experiments with recipes, trying out both the plain bread and the ones with raisins and seeds in it.

The plain one is great. Barnes makes a grilled cheese and pickle sandwich with it, and it tastes great. Clean and unfussy.

“Did you eat things like this in the 40s, though,” asks Hill. Barnes suspects that she knows of his plans for a mushy back story.

“Steve says we had the bread.”

“Ha! But not the sandwich; am I right?” Hill crows. It is not an attractive sight.  

Romanoff, who appeared in the middle of their tasting session, squints at the plate of grilled cheese. “It’s not enough, Barnes. It’s delicious, but is it enough to get you into the competition? I don’t think so.”

“Maybe a soup to go along with it?” Banner suggests. “Maybe a mild soup so it doesn’t overpower the pickle?”

Hill and Romanoff mull it over, until Rogers yells from the living room. “Potato leek soup!”


	2. Roast Quail and Couscous Salad (and Lemon Caramel Tuilles)

Building had organized a close simulation of the Mystery Box Challenge for Barnes in the kitchens after business hours. Barnes is extremely excited; he spends the day researching recipes and tips on the internet.

When it is finally 2300, Barnes tapes a note on Rogers’ monitor as he is sleeping. Rogers will only make a nuisance of himself and pretend to know more about cooking and eating than he does; better to leave him here asleep.

Stark’s (Pepper’s) staff is very efficient. The kitchen is spotless, and everything has been put away except for a box sitting near one of the cooking stations.

Building speaks up. “Your challenge waits, Sergeant Barnes. I will allow you five minutes after you open the box to decide on your dish and acquire your ingredients from the pantry. You will have forty-five minutes to complete your dish. I have also arranged for a judge; she will arrive half an hour into your cook time and simulate the questions that Mr. Gordon Ramsay and his fellow judges frequently ask contestants during these challenges.”

Building really thinks everything through. “Thanks, Building,” Barnes says, remembering his manners. He lifted the box, and what do you know, it’s quail.

Barnes spends two minutes deciding on his dish and thinking of a plan, and with three minutes left dashes into the pantry and very efficiently plucks out the ingredients he will need. He will make roast quail, stuffed with sausage to keep the meat tender, and a bright couscous salad with roast vegetables.

He works quickly. Part of his training with the Red Room had been efficient (and rigorous) time management, and after half an hour goes by he barely needs to glance at the clock to know that Building’s judge is about to make an entrance.

“Hey.”

And it’s Romanoff. As Chef Gordon Ramsay would say: fucking hell.

“You,” he grunts, as he fluffs up the couscous.

“So, what do have for me today?” She is wearing her not-laughing face, as she pokes through the roasted tomatoes and peppers he had set aside.

Barnes bites back a retort (“I’ve seen you eat plain protein powder and wash it down with water, lady”) and instead forces out a reply. “Quail: stuffed with sausage and mushrooms. Couscous: salad, served with roasted tomatoes, bell peppers, onions and crumbled sausage. Mushroom gravy.”

“How are you dealing with the time pressure?” Romanoff takes a bite out of the couscous salad Barnes had just finished. “Mmm, you’ve got some strong, earthy flavours there. Do you think it’ll pair well with the quail?”

“The Red Room has taught me efficiency and planning. Mission timetable progressing as planned, except for assholes blocking my way to the oven.” Romanoff actually laughs at that and moves out of the way; Barnes checks on the quail and bastes it a little more for good measure. “Use of similar key ingredient expected to draw the quail and couscous together. The entire plate should prove cohesive.”

Thankfully, Romanoff shuts up and lets him plate the quail in peace. Barnes is still struggling with the aesthetics of garnish. Banner has no advice to offer; he is very good at family-style meals with large bowls of everything all over the table, but not at finicky little morsels of food drizzled with truffle oil. However, Hill at least is capable of giving feedback, and Potts has had about twenty years of experience eating fancy, pretty food.

Drizzling things with truffle oil seems next to useless. However, drizzling the quail with gravy fulfils the combined functions of aesthetics and also tasting fucking amazing.

GRAVY IS IMPORTANT

All too right, mission.

The couscous salad in itself looks very pretty, but if he serves it in a lump next to the quail it will look unpolished and like a meal tray. So Barnes sets the quail against a bed of the couscous –

COUSCOUS WILL ACQUIRE FLAVOUR; QUAIL CHARMINGLY TIPPED TO THE SIDE

And Barnes finishes his plate with thirty seconds to spare: crap. His mission prep time was set to two minutes before end time.

Romanoff approaches his plate and makes a show of examining all elements. “Describe the dish, please,” she asks in an obviously fake English accent intended to sound like Ramsay. Nice try, but being funny is more than being sloppy, Romanoff.

“Quail, roasted and stuffed with sausage. Couscous salad, with roast spring vegetables. Mushroom gravy.” Romanoff hums in response, and after taking a few pictures on her phone, slices into the quail. Barnes tries not to crane his neck too much trying to get a glimpse of how well-cooked the quail is.

It's perfectly cooked, because of course. Romanoff tries to pretend it was horrible, but of course she fails.

~

The flight to Los Angeles, California is not pleasant. The airport is unpleasant. The jet, even the large private jet that Stark owns, is unpleasant. The only pleasant thing about going to Los Angeles, California, is that the Olds had gone to see him off.

Esther brought him peanut butter cookies for the trip. Barnes feels gratified that Rogers’ Tupperware has less peanut butter cookies (although Esther gave Rogers chocolate chip cookies as well). Lidia gave him a new book: a collection of short stories by Nikolai Gogol in original Russian. Barnes is branching out in his reading material. Ever since Barnes realized he could read in seven different languages, Barnes’ book orders have become much more varied.

Rogers can complain all he wants but Barnes is old and has brain damage and has no intention of letting his skills deteriorate.

The flight is quiet, at least, and although there is a patchy moment when Potts tries to get him to listen to music and use headphones. After that Barnes keeps to himself. He reads a funny story about a nose running around St. Petersburg like it was a part of the body placed lower and to the rear. There is also another silly story about an overcoat. It is funny, but Barnes understands why the Bolsheviks had to revolt. Systemic social inequality should not be allowed to stand.

~

Los Angeles, California is terrible. It is hot. It is full of paparazzi and the cameras make Barnes itch and want to hide. The increased number of operational cameras and photographers means greater chances of being caught on photographic evidence. Therefore: Los Angeles, California is terrible.

Also, judging from the celebrity news show that Katie the barista likes watching, the paparazzi of Los Angeles is accustomed to photographing violent, psychopathic celebrities. His glare may not have the same level of efficiency.

Fortunately, Potts has prepared for this eventuality, and a car is waiting for them as they deplane.

The car trip to Stark’s house in Malibu is quite long, and Barnes finds that he cannot read as easily in the car as he did in the plane. So he settles on observing the scenery. He is not as familiar with the western coast of the United States, and apart from their travel between Washington D.C. and New York, he is not aware of having travelled extensively in the country.

The briefing stirs, possibly to offer a memory download, but Barnes refuses. Information must be processed in an appropriate time and location, and in an unfamiliar state while in a moving, sealed car is neither. Barnes can feel the mission’s approval.

We can unpack that later, briefing. After three security checks and set up of a security perimeter.

~

It is very sunny and warm when they reach Stark’s beachfront property in Malibu. Rogers is obviously enjoying the warmth, which is drastically different from the summers of New York. Barnes originally thought that oppressive heat and stickiness in New York City was an effect of the global warming that Stark and Banner detest, but Steve corrected him. “It was always that hot around here, but before we didn’t have air conditioning.”

Barnes dislikes the beach. While yes, swimming and sunbathing is fun, it is only fun in a controlled environment like Building JARVIS, where the water is clean and chlorinated and there is no sand to get stuck in between fingerplates.

He’s called the Winter Soldier for a reason, dammit.

Barnes is sweating through his shirt already, and they’ve only been out of the car for 0.001 seconds. If Rogers asks to play tourist he will have to go alone and wear the bugged blue and white striped shirt. Why is the beach a tourist destination even.

“Let’s go down to the beach, Bucky!” Rogers cheers after Potts tells him that Stark owns a large section of the shoreline.

“Can’t.”

“Oh come on, Bucky, we’re never here except to deal with aliens or something horrible. You’ve got to take advantage of every opportunity, right?”

This boy is learning.

“Can’t. I’m allergic to the beach.”

Rogers glares at him. “I know for a fact that you’re not.”

The mission whispers to Barnes, and he smirks very smugly at Rogers. “Salt water and briny moisture corrode the arm. Sand gets between the finger plates. Therefore I’m allergic to the beach.”

He turns his back on Rogers then to take refuge inside the kitchen, but he still hears Rogers yell. “I’ve seen you dive into the Atlantic when there were giant squids, you faker! And you love Coney Island, asshole!”

~

They always set steaks as a challenge for MasterChef, and so Barnes has been applying himself to steaks (and soufflés) in the past several weeks. Soufflé, Barnes has learned, is a matter of utmost precision. He is not uncomfortable with this, as he is intimately acquainted with the concept.

He was a long-distance sniper before there were fancy calculators and high-tech scopes to do the aiming for you. Of course he’s familiar with precision.

Steaks, however. They require a certain level of familiarity and instinct that takes time to hone. While baking can be reduced to the smallest and most predictable molecule, the same is impossible for steaks. Barnes has been able to order 15.7% protein bread flour from the internet, but he has not yet been able to order a 12% fat steak. He checked.

Philippians 4: 19 is apparently also applicable to Building JARVIS. The refrigerator is full of steak; specifically, the cuts of steak Barnes has not yet been able to master. Barnes decides on some rib eye, and after some consideration, elects to attempt using the grill outside. But not any time soon – it is too hot, and to pass the time until sunset, Barnes sets out the baking equipment and attempts to make tuilles cups for ice cream.

~

When Rogers enters three hours later, hair wet and sporting the beginnings of a tan (that will fade in half the time, thanks super serum), he is immediately confronted with three hours’ worth of broken tuilles.

“Um,” he says timidly. “Has HYDRA infiltrated Tony’s house for the express purposes of making your baking go wrong?”

“No. Worse.”

Rogers’ face is almost funny in its confusion. If only he weren’t looking at the splintered remains of Barnes’ beautiful, delicious lemon caramel tuilles meant to go with tonight’s fresh mint chocolate ice cream. Barnes would have laughed if he weren’t in the middle of feeling the biggest surge of hatred towards HYDRA since the reprogrammer in Vinegar Hill.

“The arm was built for immense strength.”

“Yes?”

“The procedure for making tuilles does not call for immense strength.”

There is silence, and then Rogers offers, “At least the crumbs are still good?”

Barnes pitches a fistful of the crumbs in Rogers’ face.

~

Perhaps to make up for his terribleness with the tuilles, Rogers offers to take Barnes out for tacos and 'California rolls from California'. Barnes is torn. On one hand, Barnes holds deep affection for both sushi and avocado. On the other, he holds a deep-seated distrust of any non-standard sushi, carefully cultivated by Old Man Hayashi over every dinner after Barton tries to order a California roll in the Carp.

Avocado wins out. Barnes tells himself that he is an internationally feared super-spy. He can keep secrets from the Hayashis if he has to.

They take a motorcycle from Stark's garage, after Pepper gives them permission in Stark's absence. Barnes expects a sit-down lunch, but Rogers has different plans. They go to several restaurants in quick succession: a taco place, a burrito place, a sushi place, and Rogers only hands over payment in exchange for takeout bags.

It is clearly a picnic. By the time they drive back to Stark's private beach and Rogers sets out a picnic blanket, Barnes deeply wants to tease Rogers. They are having a picnic by the beach. It is the cheesiest of all things.

But there is also no one to stare at his metal arm, and he can take off his jacket. There are no unpleasant photographers. The heat is no longer punishing, and the breeze is pleasantly cool. To top it off, Barnes soon discovers that all the food Rogers has ordered comes recommended for good reasons.

Tomorrow he will be going to the studio to begin filming. For now there is friendship, good food, and the world isn't being actively targeted by the worst assholes on earth and beyond.

GOOD PARAMETERS FOR MISSION SUCCESS

We'll focus on that tomorrow, mission.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Philippians 4:19  
> "And my God will meet all your needs." 
> 
> I suggest against trying out these recipes. I have been reliably informed that my food experiments do not have the same level of success as Barners'. 
> 
> I'm so sorry for the lack of updates, but for all those who were asking, no, school did not go well. It kind of went to hell shortly after I posted this fic, but what the hell. That was months ago, and while it isn't _quite_ ancient history yet, I'm mostly over it. 
> 
> To all those who have commented/left kudos, you are all lovely beautiful people who deserve a 2017 that is significantly less shitty than this last year has been.
> 
> EDIT: 
> 
> This is pretty stupid, but holy hell, more than a thousand kudos?? for a silly fic about Barnes wanting to go on MasterChef? I am amazed and suddenly shy and now i just want to poke my head in the sand also also smother each and every one of you in hugs.


End file.
